Caged
by Dalamar Nightson
Summary: It never says who wins the fight between Raistlin and Fistandantilus. Raistlin looks back on this epic battle. A fic in the style of What Dreams Are Made Of, though the plot twist is very different.


**Disclaimer:** I own no one you recognize. No Raistlins were harmed in the making.

**A/N:** Okay, I couldn't resist messing with dear Raistlin's mind once more. I'm actually very surprised no one has used this plot before, that I've seen. As in What Dreams Are Made Of, the beginning may just seem like a summary, but it isn't. Please review, and feel free to give me suggestions. I'm not completely happy with the way I ended up writing this, and any constructive criticism is much appreciated.

**Caged**

I remember… It was a few hours ago, or was it a few days? Time no longer has meaning. Life, for that matter, no longer has meaning. I had gone back in time to fight _him_, to free myself of _his_ influence. How I longed to have the uninfluenced happiness of my childhood. I took it for granted then, but now I see that the freedom of it was the true treasure.

The time finally came, the time when I would fight _him_. The seven of us sat in the room, myself apart from the others. Now, I see my folly in singling myself out; an action better suited to the wit of my brother than myself. However, at that time, I held the other apprentices in deep disdain. They were no match for me, the Master of the Past and Present. Then, it was all a game for me. Trying to keep them off balance, not letting them know my true power.

While I studied there, I was reminded of my childhood, and thought it harsh. Now I see, being friendless can be the best thing in the world. If I had only known it then. _He_ himself was ancient looking at that time, and needed a new apprentice. I sat without concern, even mocking the old man. I knew he would pick me. The others were so far behind me it was laughable. They were skittish and weak, not deserving of the robes of Nuitari, at least, not compared to myself.

We watched him in anticipation as he fingered his bloodstone. I, naturally, was the only one of them to know what it really was. I knew, and still felt that I was strong enough to defeat him. He spoke. "Begin the test." We did. Had the room not had spells set upon it to dispel magic, everything wondrous and dark would have been seen that day, from fireballs to shadow dragons, to fiends from other planes of existence. However, the magic did not work in that room, so the test was merely spoken.

When it was my turn, I disdained the use of a spellbook, and saw the other apprentices' glances of fear and envy. Even now, I bask in that terrible power. Then, I truly scared them with a simple slight-of-hand trick involving flash powder. Naturally, all of them, including the old man, believed that I had broken the enchantments upon the room. I was gratified to see a flicker of fear in the old man's eyes, to be quelled quickly.

He demanded to know how I did it. I simply sneered, and showed him the powder. At his outrage that I would use slight of hand, I simply stated that it was magic fit for the group of buffoons he'd been testing. For Istar's elite black mages, it is true – they did seem sadly lacking. "So you consider yourself better than these?" His voice was soft, coaxing, as close to kind as he could come.

The other apprentices muttered in anger. "You know I am." How the other apprentices could not know as well was beyond even me. I watched, sneering, as the other apprentices were chased out of his room.

"These others will soon be gone and we shall have the castle to ourselves. Meet me in the secret chambers far below when it is Darkwatch. I am conducting an experiment that will require your … assistance." I felt the fear rise within me at those words, and smirked once more. This time, it was at myself that I smirked rather than the world. I could afford no fear. Now I know, fear can be a healthy emotion.

I went down at the appointed hour, still sneering. Now, however, it was because it was time for me to play a game, the stakes being my soul. He bound me magically, and placed me on a stone slab. Naturally, I could have broken his bonds, but I wished to learn what he could do. "What will you do to me?" The quiver in my voice was only partially forced.

"How can that matter?" The old man seemed much more calm and possibly younger now that he was in his workroom, holding me 'helpless'.

"My object in coming to you was to learn. I would learn, even to the last!" I tried not to shrink away from his horrid touch on my chest. He smiled, as though seeing himself in me. He agreed, knowing that with knowledge, I would still be powerless. My horror grew as he proceeded to explain to me the purpose of his bloodstone. Some I knew, more had been secret. He poured out his heart to me, telling me how he feared growing old. In a way, he conquered death by taking the bodies of his apprentices. Now, it was my turn.

I strove to prolong his talk, so that I might learn what he would do so that I could defend myself. "Tell me how it works! Tell me what will happen to me!" Even in the face of death, this lure of knowledge was like bait to me, bait I could not help but take. Abstractly, I wondered if Dalamar had similar thoughts when he became my apprentice. I, as he did, walked knowingly and uncaringly into danger, for the sake of understanding.

_He_ smiled, mocking me. In his hand, the bloodstone hovered above my chest. "I will place this upon your breast, right over your heart. And slowly, you will start to feel the lifeforce ebb from your body. The pain is, I believe, quite excruciating. But it will not last long, apprentice, if you do not struggle against it. Give in and you will quickly lose consciousness. From what I've observed, fighting only prolongs agony." I contained a derisive snort. The apprentices he'd had before would not, could not compare with my skill.

I stayed still, using all of my willpower that I would be able to memorize those words in the one time I could hear them. Suddenly, the spell ended. It had not worked, and in a flash of insight, he recognized me. He asked me if Par-Salian sent me. As if I would follow the whims of that fool. "I came myself. I am Master of the Tower now."

The old mage was astonished. "Impossible!" He snarled.

"So you thought. But you made a mistake. You underestimated me." I let my scorn for him show, though I was still in the vulnerable position on the table. "You shattered me physically to weaken me. You would have gained strength in this time, returned to the future, and then tried to become me. Instead, I shall become you!" I imagine that my eyes glinted with maniacal laughter.

_He _tried to grasp his pendant, but I revealed that I had taken it, and the pendant he was holding was a mere illusion. He summoned an apparition to take care of me, a powerful being of another plane. I muttered a spell to banish it, years of training under adverse conditions coming into play. My spell, powerful as it was, only halted it a moment. He forced it onward, I stopped it once more. We held it in check for many minutes, my endurance being stronger, his talent older. Finally, it exploded, and the backlash sent us flying to opposite sides of the room.

I placed the bloodstone on the stone pedestal and started to chant. Our true battle had begun. Likely, we were engaged in the most powerful battle ever to have been fought, ever to be fought. Time became meaningless, spells became blurs. What was my passion became only a tool, a tool I would use to keep my life. His fortress began to crack as he and I fought. Suddenly, I collapsed, blood spurting from my mouth as I coughed violently.

_He_ came over, leering at me. Even as he pressed the bloodstone into my chest and began to chant, my mind refused to accept the fact that I had failed. I, Raistlin Majere, failed at nothing. That was my last thought before pain overtook me. I felt my life being wrenched from my body. The pain was excruciating, so much so that it created a paradox in which I was conscious of it, yet barely felt it. Through the pain, it seemed like waking from a dream, when the soul seems to hover above the body for a split second before rejoining it. It was not, however, my body that my soul joined. It was his.

Suddenly, my perception changed, and I was looking through his eyes. I was looking down at my body, which suddenly changed to his body. In dismay, I saw the other body crumple to dust beneath me; beneath us. _Hello Raistlin._ The voice sounded within my mind; within our mind. It was not simply as he said, that he took my body. Rather, he took my soul and my lifeforce. Since I fought him so vehemently, I did not lose my mind. That is rather, that my mind did not cease to exist.

_Scared?_ I could hear him smirking at me as I tried to block him from my mind. It was futile, however, and he effortlessly broke through my feeble defenses and raped my psyche. In that second, he knew more about me than any other, even, perhaps, myself. He knew my innermost fears, desires, loves, schemes, and dreams. He knew more about me than any one person has the right to know about another. He knew, and he laughed.

I truly did not pay attention to what he did for a time after that. My part of our mind was racing at a thousand miles per minute. I wondered if it would be possible for me to break through his barriers and take control, even for a while. I knew I could not get rid of him magically. Even if I were strong enough to keep control of our body for as long as it would take to memorize some sort of useful spell, the second he got it back, he would know what I had done, and would take my knowledge from me as he did everything else.

I planned, coming up with and discarding many possible ideas. Every once in a while, he would come to taunt me, to take my thoughts from my head. This torture just reinforced the belief that I could not have any thought of my own without his sensing it. I began to fall into a mindless despair.

When I came to, I found myself in my Tower. However, the Tower seemed different, more like how it was before I claimed it for my own. Because of this, I surmised that he must have taken us part way into the future. Through his eyes, I could dimly see my brother and Crysania lying near us.

All of a sudden, the wraiths that guard the Tower were upon us. One raised its hands, and placed them on our chest. _He_ screamed as he felt their touch. Myself, I had grown accustomed to pain when he took control of my body and mind. The touch of the wraith was immaterial compared to that.

Then, he did something I could not sense, and the wraith let us go. "Shirak." I could not stand to hear him murmur the spell that ignited the crystal on my staff. He knew that, and took pleasure in taunting me with the fact that he now owned my most prized magical artifact.

"Raistlin! Are you all right?" Crysania's voice was soft, afraid.

_He_ drew her close to him, held her. Her hair was silky to our touch, but I felt revulsion that it was _he_ caressing those locks rather than me. "Do not be afraid." A soothing voice issued from my mouth. "They will not harm us. They have seen me and recognized me. They didn't hurt you?" _He _was using a much kinder tone of voice with her than I ever did, and I was surprised that she didn't realize that something was wrong. Then I realized, she was likely so pleased at the change that she didn't think about what caused it. I wondered why he was bothering to be so nice to her.

Suddenly, I realized. Using my body and my power, _he_ would continue along my path. He would manipulate her, as I would have done, to gain access to the Dark Queen's plane. From there, he would try to overthrow her. A thought that had seemed so excellent when it was mine suddenly turned bitter. If he became a god, that would ensure that I would linger forever, a prisoner in my own mind.

_And what will you do about it?_ Abruptly, he was there again, reading my thoughts like an open book. He smirked internally at me, and ripped through a few of my memories again, just to show he could. As suddenly as he'd come, his consciousness moved on again. I knew that I could not allow him to take over the world. For now, however, I can do nothing but wait. Waiting, though, is much preferable to remaining as I am now; caged within myself.


End file.
